Murdering Passions
by Katherine RaineKeth
Summary: A tribute to the Ogre's Arc in Gotham. Mostly canon, with depictions on Barbara's thoughts and my take on what really happened in her parents' house. *Jason looks at the trembling old couple on the couch with satisfaction, holding them at gunpoint. Of course Barbara would choose her parents. She is just like him, wronged by the people who are supposed to love her*


**Disclaimer:** I do not own Gotham or its characters. This story is mostly canon, so the plot does follow the show and many quotes are taken directly from the show. I take no credits for that.

 **Author's note:** Apparently I am one of the few people who do not dislike Barbara; and if I did own Gotham, Jason Lennon would have survived and escaped along with her!

 **Warning:** Character death, violence.

XXX

 **Murdering Passions**

XXX

 _Jason's apartment_

Everywhere hurts.

Barbara draws in another deep breath to steady herself. She feels nauseated. Her knees tremble from standing for too long and her wrists burn from her restraints. How long has he left her in here?

He had chained her hands to the ceiling and gagged her before leaving her in this room. The room is disconcertingly clean, with cuffs and chains and other…tools. Its facade is almost clinical.

Barbara whines in despair against her gag. How naive was she to think that he was just a man with peculiar sexual tastes?

He is a _psycho_. Jason Lennon is a psycho.

She has almost drifted into unconsciousness when she finally hears noises from outside the room, and she snaps her eyes open in alarm.

He is back.

Dread begins to fill her as his footsteps approach, and she wheezes to drag shallow breaths in her lungs. What is he going to do to her? What does he _want_ from her?

Then Lennon walks through the door.

His demeanor is calm and composed. He walks with the same grace that she saw at the ball last night, no different from the charming yet slightly aggressive man who danced with her. One will never see the monster behind his handsome mask by simply looking at him.

Barbara's blue eyes harden. She is mildly surprised that she still has the fire in her, even in this state.

Lennon deliberately overlooks the disgust in her eyes. "I'm sorry I left you alone, but you needed the time to think, to accept that this was real," he says softly.

He starts to unbuckle the gag from the back of her head and whispers, "This apartment is soundproofed, by the way, so save your lungs."

Hatred flashes in her eyes and she takes a shuddering breath. As soon as the gag is removed, Barbara spits on his face on impulse, thinking little of the consequences.

Lennon recoils reflexively. He wipes his face, smiling at her defiance. _She just needs time. It's fine._ What is important is that he has finally found _her._

He proceeds to unlock her shackles. He gives a small laugh when his hands shake with excitement, "Look at me. My hands are shaking. That's never happened before with any of the other women that I've had here. You know why that is?"

Barbara groans lightly as blood rushes to her released arm.

Displeasure flickers across Lennon's face as she ignores him. He lifts her chin and repeats slowly, "Do you know why that is?"

Barbara meets his eyes with bold stubbornness, "You're a psycho. I don't know what you're thinking."

Lennon's mouth twitches into a tight smile. That attitude will have to change, but he will give her a pass on that today. After all, she is _the one_. He moves to release her other arm, "It's because I always somehow knew that deep down, the others weren't the one…They weren't the one."

He holds her as her weakened body slumps forward, "I want this to work, Barbara."

A sudden wave of anger sweeps through her and she slaps him, panting and expecting him to strike back.

Lennon grunts and clenches his jaw, suppressing his rising temper. _She's just scared._ "You're scared. It's okay."

Barbara's eyes flutter, searching for something _normal_ on his face, but she only sees his maddening calmness and self-deluded confidence. _He thinks he will win._

She grits her teeth and assures both of them, "Jim will find me—"

That's when Lennon feels something snap in him and backhands her.

The slap echoes in the quiet room as Barbara falls to the floor. She whimpers, blonde locks covering her burning cheek.

Lennon blows out a breath, his body rigid and tense with anger, "The only way you're going to make me angry is if you mention _his_ name."

He grabs a glass of water and holds it out for her. "Drink this," he orders, "It's water. You're dehydrated."

Barbara swallows, her throat dry. _It's probably spiked._ She takes the water and gulps it down with a sense of angry surrender. _What choice does she have?_ If she refuses, he will simply _make_ her.

She finishes her water and realizes Lennon has strolled to the far end of the room. He calls out to her, "Barbara, come here. I want you to see something."

But Barbara's attention is captured by something else. Her eyes dart from the door a few feet away from her, to her captor, then back to the door again; a look of hope and fear instantly mars her face. _He has his back to her, and she is unchained, perhaps she can make a bolt for it_ —

"Barbara," he warns without turning, "I love you. I love you like no one has ever loved you, but if you try to escape, I will chain you to the ceiling and gut you. Now come. Here."

Her blood runs cold, and frightened tears threaten to roll down her cheeks. That is not an empty threat. She sniffles and stands up with a wobble. Her whole body shakes as she drags her feet to the Ogre's side.

A long rectangular box rests on the table in front of them. Lennon flicks the lid open, revealing a set of tools: his lethal weapons, each one of them sharp and cold and deadly. One of which could be easily used on her anytime on his whim.

Barbara's knees almost give out, but she does not fail to notice the pictures lined up neatly on the inside of the lid. Each picture is a woman, chained to the ceiling just like she was moments ago, except they are blindfolded.

A chill rolls down her spine.

"Are those…" She thinks she might faint.

"When you're looking for love, you have to kiss a lot of frogs," he says reflectively, "Still, I should be thankful. They led me to you."

"All those women…" Barbara manages to find her voice, barely above a whisper, "they died here? You killed them…here?" _Right in this very room._

Her heart pounds violently in her chest and every breath that she drags in her lungs seems shallower and shallower…

"Yes." One simple word from her captor and her last shred of strength escapes her. Her legs eventually fail her and she collapses to the floor.

Fear overwhelms her as her vision blurs and she struggles to stay conscious.

"Don't worry. I'm gonna set you free. You're the one, Barbara. You're the one." Lennon's deep voice penetrates her mind as she slowly sinks to darkness.

 _Lying_ … _he is lying. She will be the next one, she knows. He will kill her._

XXX

They are dancing.

Jason holds her hand and keeps one arm around her waist, and they move in a perfect rhythm. He lets go of her waist and lifts his arm slightly, letting her do an elegant twirl before drawing her back to him.

He presses himself to her back and whispers, blowing hot breath on her ear, "Barbara, I know what it's like to be one person on the inside, and have the world see another."

Barbara stiffens against him.

He turns her to face him, his piercing brown eyes locking with her blue ones, and her breath hitches. "I can see it destroying you," he says softly.

Barbara backs away from him as if burned, "I don't want to dance anymore." _This man sees right through her, like she is naked._

It is then she realizes in alarm that they are alone in the ballroom, "W-where is everybody?"

She whirls around in panic and hears sharp clanking noises. One glance down at herself and she pales at the sight of manacles around her hands and ankles.

She is his prisoner.

Jason comes up from behind her and closes a hand threateningly around her throat, holding her in place. She pants in trepidation as he kisses her hair and murmurs, "You're the one, Barbara."

 _No_ … _no_ …

Then she sees James.

 _Jim._

Hope rises in her as James walks into the ballroom. James will save her. He always saves her.

And then someone else appears as well; a woman—a dark haired woman by James' side. She wraps her arms around him.

Barbara watches in desperation as James loses himself in the woman's kiss and takes no notice of her. "Jim," she calls weakly.

The body behind her turns rigid, his voice strained with anger as he speaks, "The only way you're going to make me angry is if you mention his name."

Suddenly the hand around her throat is replaced by a cold blade, and he slits her throat.

XXX

 _Barbara?_

Someone kisses her forehead. "Wake up, Barbara. Wake up."

Her eyes flutter open, and there is Jason Lennon staring fixedly down at her, his expression gentle and intent. Then it registers that it was just a dream, a nightmare, and she is still alive—will stay alive for she doesn't know how long.

A sob escapes her lips, and she feels something breaking in her as she reaches for him and bursts into tiny sobs.

"Shh…shh…come here," Jason cradles her in his arms and coaxes, pleased with the way she holds on to him and buries her face in his neck. _She will learn to accept him, learn to trust him. She will learn so much more_ …He runs his hand up and down her thigh soothingly, "Shh…hey, there's no need to cry, okay?"

Barbara cries quietly on his chest, her mind confused and overwhelmed. This man scares her so much, yet she can't help but cling to him tighter. "You're gonna kill me," she whispers, her voice breaking.

"Do you want me to?" He murmurs against her skin.

"No!" She looks up at him, her eyes wide and imploring, like a frightened rabbit.

"Then tell me who to kill," he replies, his words slow and deliberate.

Unsure if she has heard him right, puzzlement passes over Barbara's face, "W-what?"

Jason brushes her hair away from her face tenderly, "You still don't believe I love you. You think I'm crazy, that's fine."

Barbara shakes her head quickly, afraid to anger her captor and end up like all the _others_.

"I see the truth. I see your truth," Jason says, his gaze serious and passionate, "I see that you've spent your whole life trying to kill it, but you can't. It's too strong."

Barbara stares at him, shaken by his words. His gaze pierces through her—like he knows her inside and out.

He holds her cheek, "You revealed it to me the other night. I want to set that free. I want to set you free."

Barbara can't help but let out a teary laugh, "You think that me making you murder someone will make me like you? That's insane."

She doesn't believe him. Reaching for his knife, Jason decides that he is done with her arguing with him, "You say that because you don't know what it is to live without fear, but you'll learn."

She needs to _see_ the truth, not hear it. He flicks open the blade of his knife and brings it close to her neck, "Now, tell me who you want me to kill, or, though it breaks my heart, I will take your life right now."

Stunned by his request, for a moment Barbara cannot speak. Why would she want to kill anyone? She doesn't have the desire to kill anyone! Does she…?

Then the answer pops up in her head and she pushes it away, "I can't." She looks at Jason, scared and lost, "I-I can't," and she starts crying again.

Jason exhales in frustration and disappointment. She needs _motivation._

He holds her closer to him and presses his lips against her forehead, all the while bringing his knife up under her chin, letting the cold blade caress her skin. "Tell. Me. Who. To. Kill," he commands.

Grasping at straws in a sea of terror and comfort, Barbara sobs and gives him terrified nods, her hand clutching at his chest as if he is her lifeline.

XXX

 _Upstate, Mr & Mrs Kean's house_

Jason looks at the trembling old couple on the couch with satisfaction, holding them at gunpoint. Of course Barbara would choose her parents. She is just like him, wronged by the people who are supposed to _love_ her.

Barbara stares docilely at her parents as they beg, "Barbara…please. What is happening?"

 _What is happening?_ Barbara repeats the question in her head. What is happening is that she is feeling an odd sense of tranquility as they look at her like that, so _afraid_ of her. Because fear is still a feeling. Because fear is better than their usual emotional voidness towards her.

Jason's voice pulls her back from her reverie, "What's happening is your daughter is finally waking up."

Barbara blinks, taking in her shivering parents again. She turns to Jason and pleads weakly, "Please…"

Is it strange that she is not sure what she is asking for?

Please don't? Or please _do_?

Jason flicks his knife open, "Barbara, we're doing this for you." And he stalks towards the couple in his predatory way.

It is the truth. He has no desire in killing two random elderly. _This,_ is for Barbara.

Mrs Kean screams as he advances on them. He walks around the couch and clamps his hand over her mouth, his other hand presses the knife against Mr Kean's neck, effectively silencing him. "Barbara, tell them what they did to you," Jason tells her.

Barbara stares at them blankly as her parents stare back at her in horror, "What?"

"Tell them what they did to you," Jason repeats.

 _What they did to her?_ Barbara opens her mouth, but her words get caught in her throat. They have treated her as if she was a pretty vase in their house. They have disregarded her feelings, her interests, and her dreams. They have deprived her of their time, attention, and praises. They have dismissed every one of her relationships as unworthy of their concerns. They have shut her out, as if she did not belong.

But they have raised her. They have fed her, provided her with clothing, education, shelter…

"Barbara," Jason speaks again, a hint of warning in his tone, "Tell them what they did to you that made you hate yourself so much. What did they do that made you hide? What did they do that made you into a _shell_?"

Barbara sucks in a breath; her eyes snap up to look at him, and Jason knows he has hit a nerve. It is easy—she belongs to him, after all. He _knows_ her.

"We did no such thing!" Mr Kean exclaims.

Barbara's entire body shakes as she steps forward to her parents, and she forces the words out, "That is it. You did nothing. You did _nothing._ "

At her parents' horrified looks, the truth hits home. She whispers, "You. Never. Love. Me."

Jason was not lying—no one has ever loved her like he does. No one, has ever loved her, like he does.

She ponders that truth. Then something flashes before her eyes, and she realizes that Jason is holding his knife out for her; there is a glint of passion in his eyes.

No one has ever shown passion for her, like he does.

Barbara takes the knife from him, and before she registers her actions, she is killing them. Jason clamps his hands firmly over the couple's mouths as she stabs them repeatedly, one after another. Adrenaline runs through her as the blade meets flesh, and blood spatters everywhere, staining her snow white dress.

Each stab frees a part of her, yet cripples another part.

She doesn't stop. She is so _sick_ of yearning for their affection and approval.

She will end this. She will end this now. With two swift motions, she slits their throats.

Barbara breathes hard as she falls on the floor, worn out and exhausted. She stares at her dead parents emotionlessly; they gape at her, still clueless in their moments of death. It makes her wonder, did they ever understand her?

When Jason crouches down in front of her and tilts her chin up, she sees something shining in his eyes.

Pride.

"I knew you wouldn't disappoint me—I knew you were the one, Barbara," his lips crash down on hers, hard and demanding, delivering a hint of warmth in the coldness.

XXX

What Barbara does not expect, is James' arrival.

"Jim? What are you doing here? You're not supposed to be here," Barbara says with a slight frown on her face. He doesn't belong here. Jason is going to take care of her now.

James furrows his brows, "Where is he?" Not only is Barbara covered in blood, something—something is not right with her.

Barbara blinks in shock when Jason attacks James from behind with a knife. Soon the two men crash to the floor, wrestling each other. She stumbles back a few steps, transfixed by the fight in front of her. Her emotional breakdown and overall shock from the past two days have left her in a state of numbness. She can do nothing but watch.

Without warning Jason whirls around her and holds his knife against her neck, pressing her body against his. She gasps, both scared and thrilled by his touch.

"Drop it," James says, pointing his gun at both of them, "Drop it or I'll shoot."

"Just an ounce of pressure, and she'll split right open," Jason warns, "I don't want that. Do you want that?"

"It's gonna be alright, Barbara. It's gonna be alright," James reassures her, holding his gun tight.

"If you cared about this woman, you never would have come after me. I love her more than you ever did," Jason speaks lowly, his tone dark and possessive.

A sense of euphoria washes over Barbara and she can't help but bring up a hand to touch his hand by her neck.

"Drop the knife!" James says again.

"Won't be me that slits her throat. Detective, that's gonna be you."

"Drop it!"

"Jim, please," Barbara gasps, "Just leave us alone." She is fine, she no longer needs his protection—

Then suddenly James shoots, and Jason collapses behind her, dragging his knife along her neck while he falls.

She gasps and falls to the floor as well, her neck a burning pain as blood gushes out. James hurriedly finds a cloth and applies pressure to her neck. But she only keeps her eyes on the man lying on the floor, with blood dripping out from the gunshot wound on his head.

"Is he dead?" She asks, pulling shaky breaths in her lungs.

"Yeah, he's dead. It's gonna be okay."

She only keeps her eyes on Jason Lennon.

"Look at me," James says, concern in his voice. Barbara turns her gaze to James, and he repeats, "Barbara, it's going to be okay."

James holds her gaze in his blue eyes, not letting her slip away. Blue, not brown.

But somehow, Barbara knows this is just a dream.

She is going to wake up, and he will still be alive.

He will come for her.

-End-


End file.
